Ode to Christmas and a Certain Ghost
by Lacey52
Summary: It's all done in rhyme and it's just for the season, I hope you don't really need for me to give you a reason.  SxD so you know, and now I shall go!  Merry Christmas to you, and on with the show!


**Ode To Christmas and a Certain Ghost  
**by Lacey52

.o.O.o.o.O.o.

_A note_: I hope you enjoy this three page long tale, it rhymes, by the way, and felt as big as a whale...to write! Merry Christmas and I hope for you it's white!

.o.O.o.o.O.o.

"Danny," came a soft call from Sam, "Do you think you can help Tucker with the ham? I can't touch it, and I swear I'd get sick, and if you don't mind would you do it quick?"

Yes my friends, it was once again that time of year, time for the spreading of holiday cheer. But this time was different for our dear little group, and right now they are a bit out of the loop. For you see, even though I'm still locked up, I've been reformed and cleaned my act up.

Oh yes, 'tis I, the Ghostwriter, the knave, the very same man who's been ever so brave. I've dealt with the horrors of prison and jail, and never having the chance to gather my bail. Walker's prison is tough, and escaping is tougher, but what I've found is a wonderful buffer. The trials and problems now just seem lapsing as once again my fingers are tapping. What a joyful day, a new typewriter I've possessed, and with a little ghostly magic, it's become the best.

Now back to the story, you won't want to miss, the holiday magic and one stolen kiss.

"Do I have to get the ham?" came Danny's answering cry, "Because I just so happen to have something in my eye…"

"Get over it, you big baby," said Sam, "unless my boot you'd like me to cram, right up your…"

"Hold on there, Tuck! I'm coming to save you, and with a little luck, I'll be saving me too."

Oh yes, it starts all so innocently, a small, friendly gathering at the Fentons' by the tree. Food and friends, family, fun, and when the night is almost done, I'll write them a little mischief and then you'll see, exactly what an author can force to be.

"Come on guys, 'tis the season, you don't want to give old Santa a reason to hand out coal or other such things, you only want nice gifts and such for him to bring," Maddie was quick this year to point out, the necessity of being nice, not having to shout. The argument from a few years past, had made an impact, one that would last.

Things had evened out, no more the old disturbance of holiday calm, and to Danny's soul, it was like a balm. The day had gone well, as had the week, and the trio could tell the truce wasn't weak. As far as all knew, the ghosts truce held true. To Danny this was a relief for nothing went wrong, it had been peaceful the entire day long.

"Alright guys, who wants grits? I've cooked up a batch and a half of it," Jack Fenton walked in with a happy smile, "Don't make me wait, or they'll be gone in a while."

"I'll take some," came Tucker's happy reply, "as long as there's meat, then I'm sure to come and get some to eat, maybe a bowl or more, who knows, but I declare we all sit on the floor, under the tree like we used to do!"

"Tuck, we haven't done that since your cousin was two!" Sam's laughter rang out as she declared this fact, and because of the laughter did Danny react. He joined in too, laughing just as loud, for once glad that over his head there was no cloud. He liked Christmas more and more it seemed, since that one Christmas I did intervene.

His thoughts turned to me for a couple of minutes, and fondly did he remember the fight and those in it. As surprised as I was, from my path I couldn't turn, because of him I was now spurned. The truce I broke once, as I thought it outdated, now with my words this story will turn weighted. Hopefully this way into the good graces of the ghosts I can work, and try to no longer be seen as a jerk.

"Tuck, do you think you could grab me a bowl of grits?" Sam asked with a smile and sat underneath it, that beautiful tree with lights and streamers, twinkling ornaments, and the stuff of dreamers. The angel did perch right over their heads, as they settled in and said what they said.

"How about a bike, I could use one of those."

"I'd like a bat, but not tied up in bows."

"Are bows too girly for you Tuck? 'Cause if they are then you're out of luck."

"She tied up your gift in so much ribbon and string, I don't think you'll ever be able to unwrap the thing."

"Well what about you Sam, what do you wish?"

And this is where I come in with my evil little dish. Oh revenge would be sweet, because of this wish. But of course, it will only be half as evil as I could be because I'm in this for a laugh. I want to get out, and this is the only way, Walker even said so just the other day.

"I really can't tell you exactly what I'd like…"

"I'll bet it comes from the guy who wants a bike."

Tucker jumped back from the slightly upset ghost child, and tried not to let his imagination run wild, with all the evil things that Sam and Danny might do, though he wasn't sure how Danny had suddenly got a clue.

He leaned right over and kissed her hard, and Jazz accidentally ripped her favorite card. Maddie's newest batch of fudge fell to the floor, which from Jack caused quite the uproar. Though when he turned to see what was the matter, he judged that the fudge could on the floor be spattered.

"It's a ghost," he cried, "Taken over the two. They'd never kiss just like that, it's something they just wouldn't do!"

Tucker started laughing so hard he could burst, he wasn't sure what happened but he knew it wasn't for the worst. Sam merely held a hand to her lips, lightly tracing the place with her fingertips. Danny pulled back in shock at what he did, and abruptly upstairs he ran and he hid.

Sam was up like a shot, after the boy as Maddie, Jazz, and Tucker danced a jig for joy. Jack turned his attentions back to the lost plate of fudge, desperately trying to wipe up the smudge, from where Danny had trod in his haste to escape, his worry over Sam and his supposed, sudden mistake.

"Danny?" she called with a hesitant voice, barely tapping the door and then making a choice, "I'm coming in and you'd better not run! I swear if I can't find you, it won't be fun!"

The door swung open and to her surprise, she caught him at the window with green glowing eyes. She frowned and he turned, sheepishly then, and tried to give her a convincing grin, "I swear I'm not running, I just sensed a ghost?"

"When you make statements into questions it bothers me most. And how dare you run off after pulling that stunt, I swear I'll skin you, you little runt, if you don't tell me what that was about I'll bash you up good for being a lout!"

"Wait a second Sam," Danny's eyes opened wide, "I think I really don't have to hide. We're talking in rhyme all over again, I'm so stupid I should have thought this to begin! It's just like that year, only you and Tuck never knew, and it's something I fear, so I feel a bit blue."

"What's going on?" Sam now was confused, "I just want some answers, not for my brain to be abused."

"The Ghostwriter's doing something right now!" Danny answered as he furrowed his brow. His brain was in a tizzy, but I took care of that, and Sam started feeling dizzy and wished for a nap.

"Danny?" she swayed, "I don't feel so good."

"I knew he was doing something, I knew that he would!"

He caught the girl, and suddenly she felt fine, "I believe you now, this guy's afterlife is on the line. If he doesn't stop this ridiculous plot, I swear I'll find him and then he'll be shot!"

But threats or no, I had to finish, getting these two together was my repentance. So I plowed ahead, and honestly I must say, I don't think I'll ever regret this day. If I manage this, I get out of jail, and don't you know, I think that's really swell?

"Sam," Danny said, for once not by me, "I think we should talk, and I think it should be…"

"Well, don't stop now," Sam stood all alone, "You'd better say something, you look like you're stoned."

"I kinda' liked that kiss," and the look she didn't miss, as he moved in more and right then he swore, "I like you a lot, and I think you should see, just how much you mean to me."

"No fake or stolen ones this time?" Sam asked, slightly annoyed with the rhyme, "Do you promise it's real, not just this Ghostwriter?"

"I swear it's not him, and his stupid typewriter."

She looked weary then, until his smile wore thin, "Sam this is just me, just plain old Danny, see?"

And with that said, our favorite pair moved in, eyes closed, for a kiss on the lips, only one found a chin, the other a dip, right below the nose that is, and they both did laugh, and they both did smile, and then they tried it again after a while.

This time of course, they got it right, and were now ready to face the light. Just as was I as I ended my story, and the whole of the prison no longer was snoring. I'd actually done it, the pair was together, and my life was just about to get better.

So I'll leave them for now to figure out their mess, and I'll leave you a too, though I must confess. It wasn't totally a change of heart that lead to this story, rather a promise of freedom and my shiny new toy.

I love my new typewriter, surely I do, and now I, Ghostwriter, bid you all adieu!

So from one author to her readers, or one author to another, Merry Christmas to you, from me and my mother. I hope that this day is enjoyable to you, and that everything you wish for will come true. I'll leave you now, with thoughts on this tale, whatever you wish to happen, know that the Ghostwriter made his bale. He's out and about, and couldn't be more pleased, and just so you know, happy he brought Sam and Danny to their knees.

As for me, dear readers, I really must go, but I thought first I should let you know, Danny and Sam are quite happy together, and I'm sure that's where they'll be from now until forever.

Merry Christmas and have an orange!

And just so you know, it doesn't exactly rhyme with 'door hinge'!


End file.
